


Alphasexabet

by BedsideManner



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Has Issues, Humor, M/M, POV Stiles, Prompt Fill, Sarcastic Stiles, Sexual Humor, Swearing, Texting, Tumblr Prompt, derek is a terrible flirt, let's see if we can reinvent the letters of the alphabet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3824587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BedsideManner/pseuds/BedsideManner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt fill, </p><p>Stiles: 'Motivate me to do homework'<br/>Derek: 'Do all your homework and I'll have sex with you'<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Alphasexabet**

It’s not like Stiles to leave an entire essay until the night before-but ohh, a DDO party invite. To join or not to join, now that is the question…“Stiles, so help me God if you’re gaming up there right now!”He at least has the decency to snap the laptop shut and look a little guilty out of sheer habit. Stroking the metallic surface as his eyes wander in thought. So maybe it’s entirely Stilinski of him to put off things he’d rather not deal with right now. He’s had an ongoing silent battle with his Father all week regarding the salad he’s prepared. Every time he checks the fridge it’s hidden behind a packet of forbidden cheese or wedged up far behind. And as ever, he tugs it back to centre stage and plasters it with bullying post-its as if that will make any difference. On that note he tilts back on his chair to crane his neck by the open door and bellow back“So help me God, if you don’t eat your carrots right this instance Dad!”That earns a distinctive grumble and he can hear him continue all the way with his laboured shuffling towards the fridge. He doesn’t even need wolf hearing for all the ruckus he makes. But he turns back, rubbing a hand through his hair until it sticks out messily in all directions. He knows he’s got to make good on his deal now. The sheriff would gladly eat ten bowls of Stile’s special brand of poison-sorry, salad for every decent paper he knocks out. Every on time paper, mind.

He’s gone another ten minutes and has somehow ended up on the creepy side of YouTube again. Sometimes catching glances of the thumbnails on his suggest feed is enough to have him hastily navigating away. Like nope, have to deal with enough real jump scares in life without having to add them. Even if he didn’t actively search for it, he’s sure he’d have enough weird suggestions from all the freaky searches he does alone in the name of demon vanquishing. Beacon Hills seriously ought to give him an honorary medal or something. So he locks the surfing down before it gets too risk-ay and with Stiles that can happen pretty damn fast. Grabbing his phone instead and surfing through his contacts. Scott’s probably out with Kira and though he knows the other would put absolutely anything on hold to pick his call (yes, even that) Stiles is a loyal bro. So instead he opens a messenger for Derek and proceeds to harass him with an endless stream of annoying emoticons. At first it’s somewhat coherent to be fair. Kissey face, butt, butt, kissey face and then a handful of messages staging an elaborate police chase, you know the typical beginning of a heart felt conversation. To Derek’s credit he actually seems to wait for him to finish before typing an incredibly articulate:

 

From Grumpy Cat, 09:15pm

‘Yes.’

Stiles knows it’s a question and the insufferable twit is just trying to be his cool eternally constipated self. And not an okay to kissing his ass. Even though Stiles would be totally fine with a little ass kissing by a certain Derek Hale, just so we’re clear. Stiles sort of loses track for a moment there even though there’s not much conversation to follow, did it suddenly just get a little hot in here? 

'Bro, I’m dying here.'

'You’re typing pretty coherently for someone who is dying. Should I call an ambulance?'

This was actually worse than trying to have a feelings conversation with Siri.

'Bro…'

'Stiles.'

'Broooooo'

'Stiles.'

'Der, have you short-circuited again? It’s okay, we’re all friends here'

Stiles actually groans and is ready to throw the phone across the room but then there’s another ping.

'What is it?'

'I have an assignment due in 0900 hours and I’m so screwed. Motivate me to do homework man, ughh…'

There’s a beat and then:

'Do all your homework and I’ll have sex with you'

For a second Stiles just stares and then he hurtles the thing like it’s the summoner of Satan. Lucky for him he needs to seriously work on his pitching and it lands relatively unscathed against his green Aesir worthy bed covers. Sure, Loki has made some questionable choices but there’s no denying he’s a sexy beast. Speaking of 'the sex’…Stiles really does try to calm down. It doesn’t help that he’s pretty much been drooling over Hale ever since they first met. Christ, he must have stunk up the place with arousal whenever Derek came by or whenever he did that thing with his eyebrows or whenever he bent down to pick up something. I mean hello, he can’t the only one who’s noticed Derek’s endowed with the buns of an Adonis. But anyway, he’s getting side tracked now. The point is the he knew, he’d known the entire time and hadn’t said a single thing. The blue balls inducing bastard. Unless…unless this was a joke. Derek did have a sort of disconnected sense of humour at times.

'that’s a hilarious typo…'

'It wasn’t a typo.'

'is this one of those demon possession things because I’m fresh out of Holy water and giving a shit'

'No it isn’t, Stiles'

Ha! Just the kind of thing a possessed Derek would say. As if reading his thoughts another message lit up his screen.

'I will really have sex with you if you get the grade'

'Yeah?'

He regretted typing it immediately but then ended up gawking at the screen after a moment's pause.

'Ohhh yeah.'

He stood for a moment stock still before suddenly bolting so fast towards his desk he tripped over himself. Grabbing books and flipping through them like someone had lit a firework up his ass. Oh, he was going to write the ever loving shit out of this paper. It turned out that Stiles had slept through the deadline, almost. He’d worked through most of the night, ending up falling asleep on his books and getting an indentation of 'The Great Gatsby’ across his face. He supposed it could have been worse, it could have been the 'Dick’ from 'Dickinson’. Stiles had only made it thanks to thieving borrowing a bike and pedalling like a maniac. Finally bursting panting through the door at eight fifty nine mother fuckers. Before proceeding to actually fist pump the air even though no one else had any idea what the hell was going on because yes, YES! Steamy, filthy sexy sex with abs for days Derek Hale! And the disproportionate reaction might have something to do with certain crush like feelings Stiles has been harbouring but let’s not talk about that. Though eventually he finally caught the teacher’s gaze and quietened down. Attempting not to look so shifty as he made his way to his seat. He’d ended up getting sent out for falling asleep but oh well. It had been totally worth it.

A week later saw the two of them slumped on a couch in Derek’s loft, finally alone. The gang had met up for the usual pizza and movie marathon. It had been Derek’s choice and they’d all been surprised when he produced a romcom with a dead serious face. Stiles had snorted and had proceeded to be very vocal about how he intended to watch Derek like a hawk from his position on the floor to see if he welled up. There’d been a point when he was sure he’d seen a glimmer of a tear and he’d opened his mouth ready to ruin the moment and declare it to everyone. Only he didn’t, shifting a little closer himself until he could tilt and rest the side of his face against his shin. He could have sworn be felt Derek move a fraction closer and maybe even ghost a hand through his hair. But it could have been his over active imagination. Eventually one by one people called it a night. And Derek was like a broken record telling everyone to drive safe or offering to drop them back but the pack read the slight reluctance in his face. Who would keep poor old Stiles company after all? Lydia even winked at Derek and Stiles couldn’t help but wonder what the hell that was about.

“So…” Derek seemed to hum in response, shifting his attention from the door he’d been keenly listening through to make sure they began their journey safe. Of course he’d flat out deny having a mother hen syndrome if ever confronted. Stiles had settled on the sofa at this point, already with the text on hand as proof. Though he fiddled about with his phone restlessly. A deal was deal, yet suddenly he felt kind of nervous. It was weird, Derek had the ability to make him feel safe. In a heart warming I-will-gut-anyone-who-crosses-my-pack-and-wear-their-entrails-as-a-necklace kind of way. And yet he simultaneously seemed to fill his stomach with butterflies. Believe it or not Stiles wasn’t half as stupid or as clumsy when Derek wasn’t around. Which was why as if on cue his frustration finally climaxed. “You owe me sex!” Stiles really hadn’t meant to blurt it out but there it was. Boy, when you put it like that it just sounded pushy and maybe even desperate. He could feel that his cheeks were burning crimson.

“Well, that depends…” Stiles pulled a face that was anything but pretty at that. Eh? He didn’t remember reading any terms and conditions. To be fair he had been rather distracted with the entire concept of getting 'the sex’ with 'the Derek’ so there was a possibility he didn’t quite read the fine print. “What did you get?” Derek cocked a brow and excuse me, that was his move. That and it did funny things to his insides and the man needed to stop. But he powered through like the trooper he was. “B for badass son!” Stiles looked in that moment ridiculously proud of himself. Nudging Derek with his elbow and holding up his hand for a high five that never came. Seriously? He was going to leave him hanging even though he’d pulled that off from one all nighter. Stiles thought it was legendary, Derek not so much…

“Too bad…”

“Too ba…what the what now!?”

“I said if you get the grade remember?”

Oh, now he remembered. For a moment he was utterly outraged. But then Stiles seemed to deflate on the spot then, letting out a huff at the sound of Derek’s laughter.

“maybe next time”

“Mm.”

“Nice job with the 'B’ though”

“Mmnnnnghh”

Stiles covered his ears childishly because he didn’t really want to talk to Derek the great cock tease right now. Flopping about until he managed to turn his back to the other.

“…Stiles?”

No response.

Derek seemed to sigh heavily then before shifting about on the sofa and tapping away at his phone. Stiles was sorely tempted to ignore the message but that would have been rude and his Father raised him to be a god damn gentleman.

From: Grumpy Cat, 10:44pm

'B doesn’t just stand for badass you know…'

'I’m sorry, the person you are trying to reach doesn’t give a shit'

There’s a long pause and then:

'Blowjob.'

Then another beat later.

'I’m trying to flirt with you, you idiot'


	2. L is for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There be smut...
> 
> Stiles and Scott are made to do homework on the almighty alpha's orders (education is important), Derek and Erica are there at the library doing wolfy research.

It’s not as though Derek Hale has no game. I mean, he’s Derek Hale for Christ sake. Chicks dig the whole leather clad borderline psychotic fuck me eyes thing. Stiles especially likes his eyes and not just when their dripping red with passion, fury seizing those muscles and pointing his teeth. He likes them just like this, smile softened and bright as he genuinely laughs at something Erica says. He’s got his tinted glasses on, big geeky things with the thick frames that Stiles always snorts about because A he’s supposed to be a werewolf, what with the whole sharp eyesight thing (though Derek keeps insisting it’s not for blurry vision) so he can catch all those innocently frolicking gazelles. And B he looks like a grandpa. Well, at least Stiles claims he does to anyone within earshot. Really every time he catches a glimpse of the guy with the damn things on he gets flashes of Derek bending him face first over a teacher’s desk and pounding into him as he’s made to moan out the sexabet. 

_And D is for Dirty, say it. You’re a dirty boy, aren’t you Stiles?_

“Yes _Sir_...”

“Er...dude, you okay?”

Scott fixes with with a concerned look as Stiles seems to finally come to, cheeks pinking and looking even more flustered than usual. But Scott is a bro, a bro he tells everything to so it doesn’t take him long after casting a glance towards the direction his bestfriends been daydreaming in. 

“Aw, seriously? Right now”

Scott fixed him with a half cringing half incredulous look, turning back to his school work with a new found vigor. Only a moment later he growls beneath his breath, a hand shooting out to snatch the pencil from Stiles' hand.

"Stop that"

"Stop what?"

Stiles had the nerve to shine one of his innocent angelic smiles, even tilting his head a little to complete the picture of obliviousness. This time he picked up a particularly thick sharpie now that he knew just how now much it gets on Scott's nerves. His eyes targeting Derek once more as he traces it along his bottom lip and thinks dirty, dirty thoughts that would get him punished by the 'teacher' for sure. But he‘s jolted from such filthy excursions by Scott suddenly thumping the table and hissing lowly.

"I swear to god, if you deep throat that sharpie Stilinski…"

"You'll what? Spank me? Too bad I'm into that"

So okay, maybe Stiles did have an little issue with oversharing. Even bros had limits which Scott seemed to spend half his life reminding Stiles of. It wasn't his fault he was a carer sharer overbearer. This was a fairly typical scene, Stiles tended to fall head over heels and fast. It was either I find you alright or I've just met you and this is crazy but here's my number. I've saved it on your phone when you weren't looking and call me definitely or I will hunt you down. You know, healthy balanced thought processes like that. Scott was beyond used to such behaviour and was of course well aware that Stiles was crushing on Derek Hale. It couldn't have been more obvious. Stiles practically preened and did a princess faint whenever Derek did that cocky eyebrow thing somewhere vaguely in his vicinity. Not to mention the chronic bout of bumping into things, well, more so than he usually did. But Stiles never once considered actually going up to any of his crushes, beyond convinced he knew the answer without even having to ask. And this was Derek they were talking about, the alpha to their little makeshift pack. Scott insisted that Stiles was definitely their adopted human, after all every group needed a mascot to boost morale. But Derek had never actually said it so Stiles still didn't quite believe it. Besides, since when does the top jock ever go for the awkward mascot? No, they always went for the cheerleaders. Erica may have been more hairy scary man eater than brainless pompom pusher, but she definitely won when it came to sex appeal. Sure, he wasn't really bad looking and was definitely greatful for the little muscle definition good old belated puberty had bestowed upon him. But he sure as hell wasn't making people walk into walls or full out drool. Derek had flexed once and Stiles may have momentarily lost control of his gaping mouth, but he doesn't like to talk about it.

 

Scott is still lecturing him or grumbling on about something as per usual, it’s probably the boundary talk he's heard a billion times before. Whatever, there were more important things going on right now. Like far too much giggling and touchy touching between the two. Stiles decides to make this mission a little more black ops and picks up a book to peak from behind. Shushing Scotty by reaching out to swipe his whole open hand down his face and feeling his huff of irritation against his palm more than hearing it. Then he spies Erica unwrapping a strawberry lollipop with a half smirk and Derek accepting the offering, the tip of his tongue darting out to taste. And fuck that because Stiles is getting all kinds of hot and bothered already. This was so unfair, why Erica's? Why won't Derek suck on his lollipop?

 

They hadn't really texted much since Stiles' epic fail at flirting back and still, he's pretty sure the other's just messing with his head. Stiles is full on pouting now, sorely tempted to tap out a very dangerous text to Mr I deep throat candy like a god damn professional. Derek seems completely oblivious to his...uh, _effects_ on Stiles. Instead he's leaning back on his chair casually with his head back, twirling his talented tongue around to savour the flavour before sucking hard. And Stiles is okay, really kids. He's taking his deep yoga breaths and trying to concentrate real hard on typing out the text, though he keeps secretly staring. Derek's lips seem to curve for a moment around the mouthful at one of Erica's jokes and Stiles thinks it's the most sinful thing he's ever seen. He almost blacks out right then and there. But then he hears it, the loud 'pop' as he drags it out, bottom lip glistening with the sticky residue.

Stiles is ninety nine percent sure he's just had a stroke. 

The only coherent thing he manages to think is 'guhh...' so maybe that's why he stupidly hits send. And maybe that's why he stares dumbly at the reply for a good five minutes after.

_**To Grumpy Cat, 06:23pm** _

**‘When are you going to put your skills to better use, Hale?’**

**‘Thought you'd never ask, Stilinski’**

He's not really sure what to do with his face at that moment so settles for raising his upside down biology textbook a little higher instead. Scott has picked up on something if the raised eyebrow is anything to go by but unlike Stiles he isn't a complete tool and is discrete about it.

**‘Take a bathroom break’**

**‘Nah, I just went I'm good thanks’**

Stiles gets the odd feeling he might be missing something here but shrugs it off. Alas, he begrudgingly does as he's told when Derek insists again through another text. Scooting past and putting all his energy in not catching Derek's eye as he does so. Erica seems throughly amused though, reaching to casually drift a hand up the alpha's arm. She flashes him a grin complete with pointy canines. Stiles wants the cheerbitch dead.

 

He figures it's going to be one of those embarrassing face to face talks he'd sooner sell his kidney than deal with. Something along the lines of the texts being a joke, that he was already with someone or it had been a dare. He's always the joker though, the fool. There's no denying that what scares him the most is ending up alone. Sometimes the jest cuts a little too deep, sometimes he can't always laugh it all away. He sighs, scrubbing at his eyes. Runs wet fingertips through his messy outgrown hair and slaps his cheeks for colour. And then he just stands there feeling like an idiot because it's not as though any of that will help his cause. Derek's still way more into Erica, he ought to retreat and lick his wounds. He gives a start though when he sees movement to his side in the reflection. A bearded blur of black leather that was unmistakably his prince charming.

"You should be made to wear a cow bell or something, sneaking up on people..."

Stiles is stalling but he can't help himself. Everything is going to be so awkward between them once all was said and done. He finally let's himself rake his eyes over the other, sees that he's still got that damned lollipop caught between his teeth. Stiles gets shamelessly distracted there for a second because yeah, oral fixation? Check. Then of course his eyes start to drift lower, finally locking with his hazel that he'd been tactfully avoiding. And holy shit, that look goes straight to his dick.

 

Derek's eyes are dark and hooded, the crimson storm of his inner animal warring with his greeny-brown. His entire body seems wound up tight and ready to pounce, every inch the predator. It's a look of fierce hunger and thinly veiled desire, it feels dangerous. Yet Stiles is violently thrilled, there are shivers wracking up his spine and blood pounding in his ears. He's not really sure when he'd started to take shallower breaths, chest heaving. But Derek's gaze flickers there for a moment and it seems to make the guy even hornier. He starts to stalk into Stile's space and Stiles wants this, by God does he want this. He's got the countless mornings waking up in sticky sheets to prove it. But he chickens out at last moment and falters backwards a step.

"S-So..."

"Hmm"

Derek's low rumble of a reply makes it clear he's focused elsewhere though, particularly at the offending buttons at his collar keeping him far too dressed. Stiles feels the backs of his legs bump into the sink so that he's effectively cornered prey.

"About the...the 'B'..."

"Uh huh..."

There's an evil glint in Derek's eyes when he finally tears them away from admiring his handiwork, thumbing along the younger's more exposed collar bone. Like he's daring Stiles to say another word. And Stiles, well he's hardly the silent type.

"the 'B' for-"

He gives a start as he's cut off, blinking stupidly. Did Hale really just shove a lollipop in his mouth to get him to shut up? Well the joke is on him because he can still freaking yodel even if someone shoves a huge, giant-

"Uhh, _fuck!_ "

Stiles almost loses said lollipop but Derek isn't playing fair. Clearly what little patience the wolf had all but disappeared the moment before he decided to shove a hand down his pants. He should have been more worried about not noticing when Derek had actually worked open the fastenings. But the thought flees as quickly as it comes as soon as he feels sticky sweet kisses at the curve his neck. He can't help the way he bucks and rubs up against Derek's palm, keening at the delightful friction his underwear causes. 

 

The alpha finally selects the area just to the side of Stiles' Adams apple and grazes his teeth there. Fingering his way past the final barrier of fabric and palming Stiles' already evident arousal. He nips the delicate flesh there experimentally, drawing back a fraction to watch the way he shudders in response. Maybe Derek wants to be careful or sweet and delicate for the first time. But it's pretty obvious Stiles has other ideas in his mind. Derek's still thumbing the head of his cock teasingly slow and Stiles isn't even aware he's started to let out tiny huffs of frustration, flushed and with his eyes squeezed shut. Only by some miracle Derek seems to take pity on him, grasping his dick firmly and tasting his way back to the shallow bite marks. He sucks there in earnest and it's great and all but he's not moving his hand. Stiles sort of needs a little action going on down their or he's going to implode. He makes a hollow sound of frustration before his first half aborted thrust. But then he feels Derek's lips curve into a sly smile against his skin and that's all the encouragement he needs. He snaps his hips again more confidently this time feeling the edgey rush start to build momentum. The sink behind him is digging painfully into his ass and thighs but he really can't bring himself to care. Head lolling back against the cool surface of the mirror as he fucks himself faster in Derek's hand. He manages to open his eyes for a few moments, capturing snapshots of the ravenous way Derek watches him. The hunger etched across his face. Stiles realises that him taking his own pleasure is the center of Derek's entire universe right now and it's a total turn on. Fuck yes, he could get used to this. 

 

He starts when the hand disappears, his brain struggling to catch back up. But he's enveloped by a hot wet heat just seconds after and Stiles' thrusts jerk and stutter. He has to calm himself down before he chokes the poor guy so freezes with a deep frown of concentration on his face. Hands coming to rest at his shoulders and fingers digging in. Derek's low chuckle doesn't help either, the vibrations shoot straight from his dick and spark like fizzing fireworks in his brain making him feel heady. He can't help but watch on as he flexes his jaw and takes him easily to the hilt. Hollowing his cheeks and sucking slowly up, taking all his leisurely time. Derek seems to like torturing him, that much is clear by the lazy, maddening rhythm he's established. But by God has this dude sucked a lot of dick by the feel of it, Stiles is almost willing to forgive him. He's looking him dead in the eye too, as if he's the one in control even kneeling on the hard bathroom floor taking it like a slut. It riles Stiles up some, makes him reach out and curl his fingers in Derek's dark locks tugging sharply. The strangled moan he gets in response is enough to make him have to pinch the base of his cock to avoid an early happy ending. So naturally he does it again, taking over and guiding his stretched lips with the hand tangled in his hair. It doesn't take him long to establish a brutal rhythm and judging by the hitched sounds and muffled moans there's no complaints. Just the filthy sounds alone of slick flesh and drawn out pleasure echoing off the walls is enough to make him come. 

 

Stiles tugs the treasured lollipop from his mouth because of course he's a talker, drawing a line of spit that the wolf's eyes track darkening a fraction.

"Fuck Derek...look at you"

Stiles stops fucking his mouth, having to use every bit of willpower he can muster. He swipes his thumb against his lower lip, swollen and wet with spit. Trying to surpress a groan at how he automatically starts to take his thumb in his mouth too. 

"Look at me"

He tilts his chin up to look into his wild eyes, pupils so blown they look almost black. But he's still present, the side of his mouth kicking up as Stiles groans at the sight. Derek wraps his hand around his cock and pumps twice, hard while twisting at the base. Watching as Stiles' abdominals spasm and he spurts thick and fast, painting his lips and smearing across his stubble. Derek parts them, red tongue darting out to taste and mouth around the head as Stiles melts and shudders, desperately clutching at porcelain to stay up right. His breaths are coming harsh but it's clear he's still riding a hazy afterglow, wearing a dopey grin. Though as he comes to it's with a litany of swearing as he takes in Derek's state, blushing with embarrassment.

"I-I...shit, Derek. Fuck, I didn't mean to...h-here let me..."

He starts to fluster about but Derek simply rises, dusting himself off as if it's no big deal. Wiping his face off with the back of his hand casually. Stiles has managed to grab tissues but stops short at the other's expectant eyebrow raise, following his line of vision. The lollipop, are you fucking serious? He plucks it out of Stiles' hand when he offers it. Placing a hand against the wall and crowding in Stiles' space once more. Sticking out his reddish tongue and swirling it over to collect the remaining white smears of come before swallowing. His eyes flashing lightening blue.

"Mmm."

And then he turns, leaving Stiles with the echoing slam of the door and a dick starting to twitch in interest again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> L is for...  
> Lustily Licking Lollipops  
> Don't judge me I had to do it.  
> Did you enjoy Derek being a silent saucy slutty slut?  
> Also yes, Derek wears glasses for dyslexia. It's a common problem amongst werewolves, didn't you know?  
> PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS EACH ONE IS A LITTLE PRECIOUS BABY OF MINE  
> And sorry if I went too far or it stank, it's been a looong time since I've written some smut. 
> 
> GIMMEH YOUR SUGGESTIONS  
> I'm really tempted to shove some good old fashioned spanking in there somewhere...hmm...  
> Much loves x

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna know what ‘A’ stands for? Heh heh...  
> Alrighty, so as ever I don’t know whether to actually continue or leave this as a one off. I'm sorely tempted to do a few more chapters based around text conversations. Feedback is greatly appreciated, I get far too little of that. Oo, and any prompts would be loved!  
> Much loves x


End file.
